Brightness
by sidewaysgrace
Summary: A brief glimpse into a sizzling Texas romance, told from the eyes of a man in love with his girl. Just a bit of fluff and lemonade...soft and sweet with a little bite. O/S, AH, non-canon.


**Brightness**

_I own nothing; anything Twilight related belongs to S. Meyer, and all songs to their respected parties. No copyright infringement is intended._

It's hot, because it's Texas and it's always fucking hot, but we're outside anyway, because I'll go anywhere as long as she's there.

She's perched on the hood of the pick-up, sipping her smoothie and smiling down at me with that candy grin of hers; the one so sweet it could make your teeth hurt.

"You look pretty," I tell her because it's true, and I know it makes her blush.

It never fails. Despite the ninety degree temps, heat blooms across her cheeks and chest, making my grin widen and hers go shy. I wipe the grease on my jeans and turn from the Camaro's engine, because my girl looks too pretty not to be paid attention to.

She laughs lightly, carefree and sweet as I move to stand in between her legs and steal a sip of her smoothie. It's cold and satisfying, but I'd really rather taste it on her. I tell her as much.

"Well why don't you come and have a taste, cowboy," she challenges, grinning her candy grin and leaning in towards my mouth.

I turn away at first, teasing, because I know how it works her up. I kiss her blushing cheeks first, and the pale sunlight peppered on her skin. I'll never understand how she manages to be pale as anything, but freckle adorably. I also still don't understand why her parents chose to move her to Texas in the first place-she burns like no other- but I'm not one to seriously question the presence of the best thing in my life.

I kiss her nose next, because it's fucking cute when she scrunches it up and pouts at me like she's doing now. I grin wider and press my lips to the corner of her mouth, chuckling when she groans impatiently and tries to turn her head into the kiss. I give in easily, because it'll be a cold day in Texas when I deny my girl a kiss.

I twist my fingers in her hair, slipping my tongue into her mouth and nearly sigh with relief. I've known for a while now that she's the only one for me, but it's moments like these where I'm confronted with the absolute rightness of it.

There was never anyone but her, and there never will be anyone but her. I reach surreptitiously for her left hand, rubbing her ring finger where the piece of jewelry burning a hole in my back pocket will reside as soon as I finally find the right moment.

She smiles into the kiss and tugs at my hair a little, thankfully not noticing the significance of my gesture.

It's only when she moans and grinds slightly against the hood of the truck that I realize we've moved far out of the PG range and are headed into dangerous territory, especially with our family and friends on their way over.

Her long legs wrap around my waist, and I'm almost embarrassed by the sound that comes from my mouth. I know we have to stop, though, so reluctantly I pull away slightly, dragging my lips across her jaw, unable to be completely parted from her just yet. Her forehead drops to my shoulder as I nip at her pulse point. I groan in frustration.

"Bella, baby, we've gotta stop." Her groan matches my own.

I pull back and stroke the exposed flesh of her hip, over the ink tattooed in her skin, leaving a streak of grease behind. I trace the letters of my name with my thumb, resisting the urge to kneel and pick up where we've just left off.

"But Jas," she pouts, looking very put out. I have to chuckle, because my girl is just fucking adorable sometimes. She rolls her eyes, but giggles, and the sound is so sweet I want to close my eyes and memorize the way it hangs in the heated air, lingering atop my skin like moss on rock. "Sweet boy," she murmurs, suddenly serious, gazing at me like there's nothing else on the planet to hold her attention. She traces her slender fingers up the sides of my face and I lean into her touch , because there's nothing better than the feel of me holding my girl while her hands are on me.

My hands find their own way under the denim skirt she's wearing that barely covers anything, and I'm absurdly grateful she only wears it around me.

Something stops me from going any further, and thankfully she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, we both seem to be perfectly content just holding one another, even in the sweltering Texas heat. Even with a light sheen of sweat and mud on her boots, she's still the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on.

She leans in and briefly presses a kiss to my neck before sliding off the hot metal in a surprisingly graceful move, pinning herself between the truck and my body.

"I'd better get changed, unless you want Pete and Em to see me in this skirt." She teases me with my own weakness while I struggle not to toss her over my shoulder and say to hell with everyone- my girl needs some lovin'.

I swat her ass playfully and she jumps slightly, glaring without any heat. "Well get to it, sweetness. I won't have those two thugs ogling my woman."

"Ogling your woman?" She raises an eyebrow on her pretty face expertly. I won' t play her game this time, though. She's my girl, and no one is getting a look at her except for me.

"Yes, ogling my woman. Now hop to it before I wrap you in a potato sack and call it good." I lean down for a kiss, but she scampers away quickly, ducking under my arm just as we hear Emmett's monster diesel engine come ambling down the dirt drive.

I shake my head and scratch my hair, watching as she gives me a saucy grin over her shoulder and shakes her ass a little as she bounds up the porch steps. I realize too late I've probably just smeared grease all over, but quite frankly it's the least of my worries right now.

I have to figure out how to get rid of my hard on before my girl's cousin catches me.

It's no use, though, but fortunately in a surprising show of maturity my girl's bear of a cousin says nothing as he helps Rosie down from the truck, instead shooting me a salacious wink.

I roll my eyes, but turn to greet them.

"Hey, Jasper. Bella inside?" Rose asks, stepping out of our brief hug.

I nod. "I think she's still changin'. She's probably in our room. You can go on up if you like," I tell her.

She nods and turns to the house, but not before shooting a quick glance down and flashing her signature all-knowing smirk at me. I ignore her, because that's just pretty much how it goes with this couple. They're family, though, so we put up with it, and Bella 'n Rose are closer than sisters, so I let it slide.

Em bumps my shoulder as Rose disappears through the doorway, his grin widening as he keeps his eyes on her ass. "You gettin' a little hot with my cousin there, Jasper?"

I shove him off balance while he laughs loudly, uncrossing his arms to brace himself on his massive truck. I notice for the first time the food piled up in the back. Sidestepping Emmett, I reach around the back, delighted to find Rose's cornbread that goes perfectly with Bella's homemade chili that she made just for tonight.

"Fuck you, man."

"Yeah, yeah," he gripes good-naturedly, regaining his balance and hauling several bottles of liquor from the back seat of the cab. "It's not like I don't know what goes on between you guys, man. And hell, you 'n Bella have caught Rosie 'n me a time or two."

"What in the blue blazes makes you think we _want _to see that shit?"

I should know better than to ask the question, but it's too late as Em grins like he's won the fucking lottery. "As if you wouldn't want to get a look at this," he gestures to himself with a bottle of Jack in one hand and Jose in the other.

"Again, Em, fuck you." I turn to the house, but not before he throws his parting shot.

"No thanks, man! Rosie already did this morning!" And despite myself, I laugh, because this is our family, and I wouldn't trade it for a thing.

I enter the house to what could possibly be at the top of my list for all time favorite sensory memories. There's the smell of my girl's chili wafting through our house, and the sound of her and Rose's mingling laughter in the kitchen. Then once I step through the door, it's the sight of her, rosy cheeked and shining eyes, and then the feel of her in my arms as I wrap her up tight, unwilling to let go.

She seems to think the same way, as she sighs contentedly, leaning back into me and twisting her neck to give me a sweet kiss laced with spices from the chili. I resist the urge to thrust my tongue into her mouth and moan in front of Rose, but it's a losing battle.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the timely arrival of Pete and Charlotte puts an end to what could have turned into a seriously hot encounter…in front of our family.

I probably wouldn't have lived that one down.

"Bella!" Charlotte exclaims, bypassing me entirely as she makes a beeline for my girl to give her a hug.

"Char!" Bella exclaims just as excitedly, extricating herself from my arms and leaving me feeling a little more than empty. But just as soon as she hugs Charlotte, she steps back into the protective cage I've formed around her, seemingly content not to move again for the rest of the night.

Except to finish the chili. 'Cause that shit's pretty damn important.

I glance around our kitchen, still sunny and bright even in the fading light of a Texas sunset. I rest my head on Bella's shoulder, and I think I'm more content than I've ever been.

"I love you, more than anything," I say softly, turning my head just so my nose grazes the shell of her hear, making her shiver like I know she will.

She tilts her head back, just a little, and presses a kiss to my forehead. "More than anything," she agrees, reaching one hand up to run through my hair like she knows I love. She pauses, giggling a bit before turning to face me.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow, a little upset she's not still in my arms.

"Nothing," she giggles lightly again and holds up the hand that was in my hair and wiggles her fingers, now coated in grease. "I just think you better go wash up before supper, my little grease monkey."

I'm absurdly grateful she doesn't say the last bit loud enough for the boys to hear, but thankfully they're too busy popping the caps off some beer and shootin' the breeze about some sports game. Rose and Char, however, giggle and snort at our little exchange, trading salacious grins with my girl while they mime shifting a gear stick suggestively. I roll my eyes, but chuckle anyway, kissing Bella on the forehead and resisting the urge to throw her over my shoulder and make her join me in the shower. It's been at least eight hours since I last made her come, I'm aching to be back inside her.

But I suck it up, because I know Bella wants to chat with the girls, and I do feel pretty grimy. I kiss her one last time, and leave her with Rose and Char as they make their way to the back porch, with Bella's famous guacamole and homemade tortilla chips in hand.

This is going to be one cold, fast shower.

Less than fifteen minutes later, I jog back down the stairs in a freshly laundered pair of worn jeans and soft cotton undershirt. I always tell Bella I'm glad to help out with any of the household chores, but I secretly love it when I come home to find dinner made and the laundry done. It's probably completely against the last hundred years of feminism, but I love that she likes to take care of me like that. It's something that I've never really had, having lost my mom at an early age. I take care of her the best way I know how, and she does the same.

Sometimes I feel like I take more than I give, but my girl is always quick to remind me otherwise. She makes me feel like fixing the damn truck is the most brilliant thing ever, and I love her for it.

I can hear the sounds of end of summer though the porch doors as I approach our backyard. Emmett has started up the bonfire, and Pete's got the grill fired up and ready to go, steaks in hand. The girls are gathered around the flames, seated in the comfortable lawn furniture Bella found a great deal on last March.

I lean against the door frame and cross my arms over my chest, taking in the scene with a wide grin. It's so fucking perfect it could be on the cover of a magazine. My girl catches my eye and beckons me close with a sly smile and a curl of her finger.

I grab a beer from the side cooler and pop the top off first, taking a long, slow draw. Her eyes are on me the whole time, dark and wide.

There are empty seats, but I don't want to be so far from her, so instead I lift her bodily from her chair and drop down with a grunt, her now situated on my lap. She shrieks a bit, but doesn't protest, and the girls roll their eyes, but can't hide their grins.

I playfully nip at her ear, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she nuzzles in close and sets her beer down on the grass, reaching her arms to wrap around my neck.

"Mm…you smell good," she croons softly, pressing her face to my now clean, grease-free skin.

I smile and say nothing, just enjoying her close to me. If I had nothing else but this; nothing else but her and the and the warm, Texas earth, it would be enough. Really, she's more than enough. I feel greedy sometimes, but I refuse to apologize for it. She's mine, and I'm hers.

"Hey! Break it up over there, you two!" Pete admonishes, waving a grilling spatula at us in his ridiculous _Grill It Like It's Hot_ apron. He and Em have been trading t-shirts and aprons with stupid sayings on them for years, and Bella constantly tells me how grateful she is that I never participate.

"Whatever, man," I roll my eyes and blatantly give Bella a resounding kiss that she returns eagerly.

"Dinner!" Emmett interrupts this time, gleefully shoving a plate full of corn in between Bella and I. I sincerely regret the day I told both he and Pete I was planning to propose, because now they won't get off my fucking back.

I pull back from Bella's lips to glare at him, wanting so bad to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face.

But Bella giggles and takes the plate of corn from him, leaping from my lap to arrange the rest of the food on the outdoor buffet. Soon everyone has eaten, or in Em's case is still eating, and we're back around the fire, coupled up and slightly sticky form the s'mores, but enjoying our time together.

"Hey, Jas," Char interrupts suddenly. "Why don't you get your guitar and play us something?"

I look to Bella, once again seated on my lap, and she smiles brilliantly at me. At that point, it wouldn't matter if I wanted to play or not; I'd do it because I'd do anything to see that smile on my angel girl's face.

"I'll go get it for you," she tells me, kissing my cheek and smiling brightly. She's back in a flash, but this time settles at my feet, her back in between my legs to make room for the guitar. I take a minute to tune it, and then take requests.

Pete immediately demands "All Along the Watchtower" by Hendrix, and I comply, because I do love the song, and frankly I'll take any chance to show off a little in front of my girl. She rolls her eyes when I tear up the opening notes, but they go soft when I begin to sing, looking at her and only her. She has to know, every time I play, anytime I play anything, it's all hers; all for her.

The guys join in when I switch to Peter Frampton's "Do You Feel Like We Do", causing the girls to roll their eyes and laugh at our antics when Em starts in on the air drums with a couple bottles of beer and Pete mimes an electric guitar on a leftover corn on the cob.

They all sober up immediately, however, when Bella requests _that_ song; _our _song, the one she knows I choke up every time I sing it. I can tell by the gleam in her eye that she knows what this will do, and she wants it.

She knows she'll watch my fingers on the frets and wish they were on her; wish the sound of my voice was caressing her ear as I press into her. And she knows the girls will get teary-eyed as I slow the tempo down to almost a lullaby and sing to her; always to her.

It's a party-ender, always is. The girls will drag their guys into our house, where they'll spend the night because we've all had too much to drink, but she'll stay. I'll pull her into my lap, so close there's nothing else I can feel but her. And then when I kiss her until I can't anymore, I'll take her inside, to our bed, and kiss her some more.

I look to her back in the present, the promise of a night, every night with her lingering like a dream in her dark eyes.

I don't take my eyes off her, not once, and I play like she's the only thing on the planet.

_If we still have time, we might still get by  
Every time I think about it, I wanna cry  
With bombs and the devil, and the kids keep comin'  
No way to breathe easy, no time to be young_

But I tell myself that I was doin' all right  
There's nothin' left to do at night  
But to go crazy on you  
Crazy on you  
Let me go crazy, crazy on you, oh…

_My love is the evenin' breeze touchin' your skin  
The gentle, sweet singin' of leaves in the wind  
The whisper that calls after you in the night  
And kisses your ear in the early moonlight  
And you don't need to wonder, you're doing fine  
My love, the pleasure's mine_

"_Do you hear me, sweet girl?_" I ask her, with everything that isn't speaking. I want her to know; to always know that she's mine and I'll follow her anywhere. I'll give her marriage and babies and a house that we'll raise them in, and long summers spent with our family just like this, but at the heart of everything is her and I.

_I was a willow last night in my dream  
I bent down over a clear running stream  
Sang you the song that I heard up above  
And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love_

_Crazy on ya  
Crazy on you  
Let me go crazy, crazy on you, ohhh...*_

There is nothing else but us as I scoop her up and lose myself in her. It's funny that I lose myself in the very person who defines me, gives me life, but that's how it is. I both lose and find myself in this woman.

"Jasper," she murmurs against my neck, a plea I recognize. "_Please_," it says, not in so many words, _"to bed, love; I need you inside me_."

It's a request she makes often, though I admit sometimes I am a bit broad in my interpretation. She never complains, though. Sometimes I know her better than I know myself, and she always knows me better, or so she tells me.

I believe her.

The others are gone, locked in spare rooms and mercifully quiet.

I carry her upstairs, her legs wrapped around me and her face buried in my neck. There is no groping or tearing of clothes, and yet the encounter is far more intimate than any other I could experience.

I know this girl, this woman, this sweet angel girl who clings to me and holds my entire heart in her slender fingers, now inching my t-shirt up over my chest.

I reciprocate, and soon we are both bare to one another, in skin and soul. I kiss her, because I can't not.

She tastes like marshmallows and chocolate and campfire, sweet and smoky and _mine_.

"Yours," she echoes, and I realize I've spoken aloud. I don't retract it though, and capture her lips with mine again, relishing in her surrender. She allows me to ply her mouth and dominate her tongue, caressing her curves and pressing her into the mattress. There is no better, no more complete feeling than having her beneath me, surrounding me, open to me and me alone.

I reach for her intimate places, teasing her rosy nipples to attention lightly with the pad of my thumb. She sighs, eyes closed, and surprises me by lifting her head with a devoted smile, and grabs hold of my wrist, bringing my palm to her mouth.

"God I love your hands," she sighs, kissing the tip of each finger before placing my palm back on her breast. I happily oblige, and massage her soft skin with my calloused hands as she lets out a sultry, wanton sound.

"I have to say darlin'," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, "they surely love you, too."

She hums in appreciation, rubbing her fingers along my jaw. It's a study in contrasts, the way we move together. My hard against her soft; my rough against her smooth…everything about her complements me, and I like to think the opposite is true as well.

I can feel her, warm and wet as I press against her intimately. My head drops to her shoulder and she pushes the matted hair from my face, because she knows.

She knows that no matter how many times we do this, no matter how many times in the span of a day or in weeks or months or the rest of our lives, it will never cease to feel like this. Like there is nothing anchoring me to the earth but her hands on me and our bodies tethered together in the most primal of ways.

She knows that I become inexplicably overwhelmed when we finally connect, and each and every time feels as though I might never return from the brink of ecstasy that our bodies and souls take us to.

"Jasper," she breathes, reminding me that I have yet to move, already overcome with all that is my sweet angel girl. "Please, Jasper. I need you inside me." I oblige immediately, because as much as the possessive man in me might like hearing her beg for me and only me, and the pleasure I can bring her, she must know that she never has to.

"Anything for you," I promise. "Anything for you, sweet girl." I enter her completely, pressing our bodies together as close as humanly possible until I can no longer tell where I end and she begins.

Her bare thighs cradle me and her arms surround me; her hands are relentless in my hair and over my back and on my face, as though she is memorizing and committing me to memory.

"Oh…oh," she gasps suddenly as I hit that place inside her that I know will drive her over the edge. "Jasper…oh, my…oh, I love you…oh God…" The words tumble past her swollen pink lips and I capture them with my own, swallowing her sounds and oaths and making them a part of me.

"God, Bella," I echo, wrenching my face from hers to bury it in her shoulder, suddenly overcome myself. "You're so…beautiful, sweet girl. My sweet girl. God…" I can feel my body tremble and she holds me impossibly tighter. "Cum with me, angel," I urge, reaching one hand down to encourage her to fall with me.

I can feel it the moment she begins, and I release the pressure I've been holding back until she was there with me, and it's the most transcendent, glorious feeling of falling…falling…inside her, with her…

Her mouth opens in a wordless cry, her jaw slack and her head thrown back in the picture of ecstasy. I retain enough of my consciousness to watch her, and then collapse nearly on top of her, using the last of my strength not to crush her. But she welcomes my weight, and soothes my exhausted body with sweet kisses to my forehead where it rests on her breast.

"You're beautiful, too," she murmurs, rubbing her thumb along my eyebrow.

I close my eyes in utter contentment, satisfied to stay here indefinitely, soft and still inside her and on top of her.

"You are the only thing I see," I swear to her, kissing the salty sweetness of her skin.

And there, in the darkness of our bedroom, I find everything I was never looking for. I pull out and off of her, both of us whimpering with the loss. She reaches for me, but I shake my head, reaching for my discarded jeans at the end of the bed.

I pull out the box, but hide it from her view.

"I've heard you're not supposed to do this after making love," I begin, confident of her answer but still slightly nervous of her reaction. "But I can't think of any other time I'm so close to you. Bella, you're everything. You know you're everything, sweet girl, and I want everything with you, whatever that is. Please, give me the greatest gift in the world, and marry me?"

I hold up her ring, and she lifts a hand to her mouth, eyes dark and wide and shining. She looks from me to the ring and back again, nodding slowly, flushed and blissful and gorgeous as she promises herself to me.

"Thank you, sweet girl," I murmur, taking her hand from her mouth, and settling her ring in its rightful place, where it will stay until the day we die. I kiss her, because I can't not, and then I'm inside her again, because the thought of a forever life with her is too good to be true and everything I never thought I'd have, plus some.

We fall asleep wrapped in one another, and my dreams are all of her. Always of her. Then she's there when I wake, sleeping on my chest, her ring casting rainbows in the early Texas sunlight. The room is bright, and so is she, and so is tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

I don't know what our future will hold, but I do know that I will always be holding on to her.

*The last song Jasper sings to Bella is "Crazy On You" by Heart, and I've cut some of the lyrics. Also, if you're familiar with the song, or look it up, it normally has a much faster beat, but the way Jasper sings it, it's slow and sweet; more like a lullaby, as he said.

Thanks for reading!


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